


Proud

by tinybean



Category: Free!
Genre: 2016 Summer Olympics, Coach Tachibana Makoto, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Fluff, Future Fic, M/M, Model Nanase Haruka, Nightmares, Olympics, Post-Series, Pro Swimmer Matsuoka Rin, Pro Swimmer Nanase Haruka, Slice of Life, Slight swearing, Summer Olympics, Tokyo (City), crybaby makoto, mentions of the shit ton of condoms at the olympics, olympic au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-18
Updated: 2016-08-18
Packaged: 2018-08-09 15:04:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7806538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinybean/pseuds/tinybean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Haru's Olympic debut and it's a pretty big deal to Haru, but Makoto thinks more of it than Haru does. Or maybe he's just more vocal about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Proud

**Author's Note:**

> i needed a makoharu olympic fic, so i wrote myself one lol. note, this isn't beta read so forgive me.

Watching Haru transition into professional swimming had been immensely exciting for Makoto. He’d been there all the way from his decision to pursue swimming, to the moment his outfit for the Olympics came in the mail with a letter attached welcoming him to the Japan Olympic team for the 100m freestyle. Every moment leading up to the Olympics had been something Makoto loved. The same couldn’t be said for Haru.

Haru  _ hated _ being watched so closely by so many coaches during practices. He wasn’t swimming for the hell of it anymore, and that bothered him tremendously. Practices were all about times and perfecting technique. In the beginning, all of the hoops he had to jump through just to swim, to do what he  _ loved _ , almost made him dread swimming. 

Sometime around the Japan Open in 2015 all of the work started to feel more and more worth it and less like a pain in the ass. He placed first, and if that wasn’t enough to keep him motivated, the look on Makoto’s face when he’d met him outside of the locker room was. Makoto was so immensely proud of him. 

Not long after they returned, Haru noticed a small whiteboard in the corner of their apartment above their sofa with a number in the hundreds written on it in marker. He didn’t really understand what it was until he noticed the number was gradually dwindling. Makoto had put it up as a countdown to the Olympics. 

Haru had come to watch the number on Makoto’s countdown diligently, but in a day he’d be leaving and when he came back the number would be much higher than he had ever seen it, if it would even still be on the wall.

He sighed at the thought of Makoto removing his countdown from their apartment. It would be devastating to come home and find the board gone. It had become motivational for him because it reminded him of how proud Makoto was of him. He wouldn’t tell Makoto that, though. If he found it a burden to countdown four years, Haru wouldn’t make him do it. He would probably feel the same way. 

He ran the last flight of stairs up to their apartment as he always did and felt around in the plant they kept outside their door for his key. He could still remember when Makoto had insisted they keep the door locked because Tokyo wasn’t Iwatobi and they didn’t know their neighbors very well. Their compromise was to keep Haru’s key in the plant by the door so he wouldn’t have to keep it on him all the time, as long as he hid it well.

He found it was already unlocked when he came to put his key in. He must have taken longer than usual to return home. Usually he made it home with time to make dinner for Makoto. 

Opening the door to the smell of food was alarming to say the least. Makoto had apparently gone to the effort of trying his hand at making dinner in Haru’s absence. The last time that had happened it had ended in Haru eating burnt mackerel, but assuring Makoto it tasted phenomenal. Makoto must have seen though Haru’s lie -which he was partially thankful for - because dinner went back to being Haru’s responsibility the day after and it had stayed that way until now, apparently.

He stepped into their small apartment and put his practice bag by the door on the hook Makoto had taken the liberty of hanging on the wall. He shut the door and called out, “I’m home.”

“Oh!” Makoto said in surprise from the kitchen. “Welcome home Haru!” he replied, and Haru could hear Makoto walking towards him to greet him at the door.

Haru toed off his shoes and placed them in the shoe rack, along with Makoto’s, which were lying haphazardly in the entryway. 

“Oh! Sorry, Haru! I meant to put them away, but I was in a rush,” Makoto apologized as he walked down the hallway towards the swimmer. 

Haru shrugged at him. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Makoto  _ always  _ forgot to put his shoes away. “Are you making dinner?” he asked cautiously. 

Makoto laughed. “No, I picked up food on my way home from class,” he explained. “I thought since it was your last dinner at home, it would be nice to have something nice. Did my message not send?”

Haru shrugged. “I guess not.”

Makoto could tell from Haru’s reaction that he’d not taken his phone to training, as usual. He decided that instead of harassing him about why having his phone on him was important, he’d let it slide this once. Haru would be leaving in the morning for Rio de Janeiro and he didn’t want to start a fight now. Of all the times to pick a fight, now was not it.

“How did you know I would be late?” Haru asked. Makoto wouldn’t have brought home food if he hadn’t known Haru wouldn’t be on time. He knew Haru always made dinner and that he never brought his phone with him anywhere.

Makoto rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “You always stay at the pool later than usual when you have something to worry about. Like a competition.” He was two whole hours late coming home when he was about to go to his first competition as a professional swimmer.

He nodded stiffly. He knew Makoto could read him well, but he didn’t know when he had started being  _ so  _ good at it. It almost made him feel guilty for not knowing Makoto as well as he knows him. “What did you get?” he asked as he walked to the kitchen.

Makoto followed behind him. “I got you mackerel udon,” he explained as he walked to the table. “Is that okay?” he asked as he sat down.

“That’s fine,” Haru said, sitting down at the opposite side of the table where his udon was sitting.

“How was practice, Haru-chan?” Makoto asked as he picked up his chopsticks.

“Stop calling me that already, would you?” Haru replied automatically. “It was fine. They changed the medley relay team swimmers.” He picked up his own chopsticks and started eating his udon. “Do you if Rin got on?” He hadn’t seen Rin with the other 100m butterfly swimmer, so he’d assumed he had, but he tried not to get his hopes up.

Makoto nodded as he swallowed. “He finally texted me back. Apparently he’s been training a lot. They just changed the team, and he made it. He was two tenths faster than the original relay butterfly swimmer.” Haru looked pleased. “Relay’s always been his favorite. I’m glad he made the team,” Makoto told him, beaming.

Haru gave Makoto a barely-there smile that would go unnoticed by most, but Makoto knew he was happy. “Good,” he said.

“How were your times?” he asked as he picked up a noodle.

“They improved from yesterday, but they’ll probably get worse after I start training in the Olympic village,” he told Makoto. “Coach Kirishima still wasn’t very happy with it, though.” That was normal for Haru, and his coach was just starting to adjust to it. His times always got worse right before a championship of some sort, but they’d be fine when he was actually competing. “How was class?” 

“Oh! Kaori finally starting to get her breaststroke down!” Makoto enthused once he swallowed. He’d been teaching swim lessons in Tokyo at the swim center near his college for a year and a half to elementary school year one and two students, and he’d just started assistant teaching year three  a handful of months ago. Kaori was a year two and she was one of Makoto’s favorite students. She reminded him of his younger sister, Ran. 

“And Hinata? How is he?”

“You’ll be proud to know he finally decided to swim free,” Makoto announced, smiling ear to ear. Hinata had stayed late to talk to Makoto about what style he should do. He was better at butterfly, but comfortable doing freestyle. Haru had come by to go home with Makoto, but ended up giving Hinata advice too. The year two had been swayed easily by the presence of Japan’s newest celebrity, especially when Haru was spewing a load of nonsense about how  _ free  _ freestyle is and how it’s easier to be at peace with one’s self of something. Makoto had clocked out somewhere near the beginning of his speech.

“Good,” Haru said, then put his chopsticks down. “I’m going to go take a bath,” he told Makoto. “Are you done? I can wash up if you are.”

Makoto shook his head, even though he was done. “No, I’ll wash both of our bowls when I’m done, though. Go have a bath,” he insisted.

Haru got up from the table and walked to the bathroom without another word.

Makoto washed the dishes when he was sure Haru was running the water for his bath so he wouldn’t hear him doing them so soon. He decided to wait up for Haru because he wouldn’t be able to go with him to the airport. He had a class to teach in the early morning and going to the airport would be too early for him to not be exhausted for his students. He usually would try to reschedule swim lessons if it interfered with his schedule, but it’s the year three class and he’s not their coach. He was only their assistant coach.

Haru didn't come out, though. Makoto waited an hour, and then two. Haru still didn't come. Makoto decided to get him out of the bath, because if he didn't he'd end up very pruny. But when he went to the bathroom, he wasn't there. He headed to their bedroom and found him there instead, already laying down. 

Makoto changed as quietly as possible in case Haru was already asleep, but when he laid down beside him, Haru moved to put his head on Makoto’s chest. 

“Are you awake?” Makoto asked in a muted whisper. He felt Haru nod against his chest. “Why did you go to bed already?” he asked, bringing his hand up to comb through Haru’s wet hair. “I was waiting for you to come back out.”

Haru shrugged. “I wanted to avoid saying goodbye,” he admitted. 

Makoto frowned and his hand paused. “But, why?” 

Haru let out a noise of complaint and brought his hand to the one in his hair to make Makoto continue playing with his hair. Makoto complied, and there was a moment of quiet between them, Haru's eyes closed while he thought about how to word what he was thinking. “I don't like when you cry,” he finally said.

“Oh,” Makoto said quietly, a blush quickly spreading across his face. He was glad Haru’s eyes were closed. “Well, I'd still like to be allowed to say goodbye to you,” he said. “It's going to be odd not to have you at home.” 

Haru’s eyes shot open. “What are you going to eat while I'm not home?” he asked. “You'll burn the apartment building down!”

Makoto tipped his head back and laughed, and Haru’s head bounced with his chest. “I'll be fine!” he replied playfully. Haru opened his mouth to argue, but Makoto silenced him with a kiss. “Not to worry, Haru. I'll eat a lot of salads,” he joked.

“Idiot. You don't even like salads,” Haru replied.

“I know, but it's that or burning down the apartment building,” he joked, tugging playfully on Haru’s hair. 

“I wish I wasn't leaving so I could still cook for you,” Haru admitted in hushed tones, his voice cracking slightly.

Makoto looked down at Haru with a bittersweet smile. “You worry too much, Haru. I'll be fine,” he assured. Haru sniffled from his spot on Makoto’s chest and the taller of the two’s eyes widened. “Are you crying, Haru?”

Haru shook his head as he tangled their legs together. His eyes squeezed closed and Makoto could barely make out the wetness beneath his eyes. He didn't say anything more about it, but he had a feeling he was having a hard time adjusting to the idea of Makoto not being with him for so long, along with him not going to see him. Makoto usually went to all of Haru’s competitions if even for one day and then would fly back home immediately after so he wouldn't miss one of his college courses. 

“We need to get to sleep if you're going to get that flight tomorrow morning,” Makoto told him. Haru nodded silently, and Makoto kissed his hair. “I love you, you're going to do great. I know it,” he told him.

Haru looked up at Makoto with wet eyes and a smile. “I’m going to miss you,” he said, taking Makoto’s massive hand in his.

“I'm going to miss you too.”

**. . .**

When Haru woke up to the alarm on Makoto’s phone at four, he climbed out of Makoto's grasp quickly and carefully, replacing himself with his pillow. He hurried to Makoto’s phone and fumbled around in the dark to turn the alarm off so it wouldn't wake up the drooling boy. He looked down fondly at Makoto and realized all of the blankets were on the other side of the bed. He moved them onto Makoto and mentally apologized for stealing all of the blankets from him overnight. After a brief moment, he added on an apology for deciding not to wake him up when Makoto had begged him to only hours earlier. He was too cute to wake. 

He grabbed the notebook he left at his bedside to draw in and scribbled down a goodbye note for Makoto to find in the morning and left for his Olympic debut.

**. . .**

When Haru landed for his first layover, he sent Makoto a Snapchat of himself in the airport with a poorly drawn medal around his neck. Not long after it says the picture has been opened, he received a call from Makoto.

“What the hell, Haru! Why didn't you wake me up this morning?” a drowsy Makoto raged. “I wanted to say goodbye!”

Haru frowned guiltily. He paused. “You looked too cute to wake up,” he said. “Did you not see my note?”

“What note?” Makoto asked.

“I left it by your phone.”

“Oh,” he said guiltily. “I noticed it was your drawing notebook and put it away without really looking. Do you want me to look through it to find it?”

Haru hesitated. He couldn't remember what he'd drawn on the pages leading up to Makoto’s note. It probably wasn't anything too mortifying. He shrugged. “Go ahead. It's the newest page.”

Makoto’s end of the call was quiet while he dug around to find the notebook. Not long after, Haru could hear pages flipping. Then, “H-Haru! Did you draw me?” 

Haru could hear the blush in Makoto’s voice. “I draw you a lot, Mako. It's a few pages after that,” he said rolling his eyes.

“You draw me often?!” Makoto yelped. 

“If you're not going to look for the note I'm going to hang up.”

Haru could hear Makoto flipping pages again. “Okay, I found it.. Do you want me to read it aloud?”

“You don't need to,” he said.

Makoto hummed as he read. “Aw, Haru! This is so sweet!”

Haru rolled his eyes again, but he was blushing this time. “See, I did tell you goodbye.” He could hear Makoto sigh.

“I still didn't get to say goodbye.”

“...Sorry.”

“I'm just so proud of you, Haru,” Makoto whispered, then he laughed. “Do you remember when you asked me if I could coach you to the Olympics instead?”

“You tried to tell me you weren't qualified.”

“I'm not, Haru!” Makoto argued, laughing. 

Haru scoffed. “Idiot. You were president of the swim team. And you’re already a coach!”

“ _ Anyway,  _ I'm really proud of you. For staying even when you were unhappy. Because now you're on a layover for a flight to Rio de Janeiro for the Olympics, and you're the best swimmer in all of Japan. You're going to do amazing things in Rio, Haru. I know it,” Makoto said. “But, know that even if you don't, I'm so proud of you for even making it this far. You have to be one of the very best swimmers to even  _ qualify  _ for the Olympics. You've already done a lot just by qualifying.”

Haru felt warmth all throughout his body, even though it was freezing in the airport. 

“I love you, Haru.”

“You too,” he replied, but Makoto heard what he didn't say.

“Text me when you land again. Let me know you made it safely.”

“Okay.”

**. . .**

Haru landed in Rio in the early morning, which allowed him to make it to his place in the Olympic Village in time to see the sunrise in Rio over the water. It was beautiful. He snapped a quick picture and sent it to Makoto, then decided to call him. He knew Makoto might be teaching his grade ones, but it was worth a shot.

“Haru? Oh! Did you make it to the village?” came Makoto’s voice.

“Yeah,” Haru said dreamily.

“What’s wrong, Haru?”

“Huh? Oh, nothing. It’s just… It’s so beautiful here,” Haru told him in a daze. “You would love it here, Mako... Are you sure you can’t come?”

Makoto let out a heavy sigh. “I wish I could come, so badly. I just.. I can’t, Haru. I have so much going on right now. I can’t take off the whole week to see you. I wish I could, but with my class with Professor Adachi… It’s just not possible. Besides, I have my year ones and twos to coach,” he said.

“I know.. I just thought I would ask anyway.” There’s a large pause. “I wish I had brought my notebook. The sunrise is beautiful,” Haru said.

“How often do you draw me, Haru-chan?” Makoto asked after a pause.

Haru rolled his eyes. “Don’t get arrogant, Makoto.” 

“Wha--! Haru!”

“It’s only when you look especially nice, or I see you from a new angle,” Haru answered smoothly. “Why are you still thinking about it?”

“...Your drawing made me look beautiful, Haru.”

“It didn’t  _ make you  _ anything. You were to begin with.”

“H-Haru!”

**. . .**

Makoto sat in front of the TV, watching the clock closely. It was the night of opening ceremony, but it was morning for Makoto and he had to catch a train for school sooner than later. Japan was on deck to come out, though. Makoto was thankful for that. He wanted to see Haru come out with the Japan team.

Makoto occupied himself with his phone while he waited, but it wasn’t much longer until Japan came out waving their flag, along with Brazil’s. He opened Snapchat and kept an eye out for his moody boyfriend. It wasn’t hard to find him on the edge of the group looking as unimpressed as he always was. He looked especially adorable in his white pants and red blazer, though. He saved the picture grinning ear to ear, then sent it to Haru with a smiley face, and he rushed off to get to class.

Later, as he was headed off campus to his favorite sushi place, he opened his messages for the first time that day and found a message from Haru filled with heart emojis, along with a picture of the Olympic flag flying high.

**. . .**

A night later, Makoto woke up at two in the morning from a nightmare that had him struggling to breathe and sobbing and reaching for Haru, only he wasn’t there to grab. Without him to pull him back to sanity, Makoto couldn’t go back to sleep. He tossed and turned, but he was too bothered to sleep and he cried in frustration, staring up at the ceiling and wishing hard that he would close his eyes and Haru would appear beside him. 

He couldn’t even call Haru. He was  _ so  _ busy with the Olympics and he didn’t have time to dote over Makoto and make everything okay. He couldn’t bother him. But, maybe he’d have to. 

Makoto tried to calm himself down by researching Haru’s name online because surely the death of an Olympic athlete would make headlines because his nightmare had felt too real not be be, but he found nothing at all and he found himself calling Haru without being completely aware of what he was doing. 

“Makoto?” came from the other end of the line, and Makoto sobbed in relief. “Is something wrong?” Haru asked worriedly. 

Makoto tried to speak, but he was crying too hard to say much, his words catching in his throat and chopping themselves into pieces Haru couldn’t understand.

Haru listened to him, his heart dropping to his stomach. “Breathe,” Haru told him softly. “Breathe with me,” he said, then lead him through the deep breathing he did with him every night he got like this.

“I had a nightmare,” Makoto explained after a long moment, moving to lay on his side. “You weren’t here.” He wiped his tears away with his comforter, but they kept coming.

Haru let out a sad sigh. “Oh, Makoto,” he said pitifully. “I’m sorry…” Makoto had a feeling he wasn’t talking about the dream. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Makoto hummed lowly in agreement. “You fell into the water, and I saw you fall, but I couldn’t move. I was stuck,” Makoto explained, sniffling. “I had to watch you drown. You  _ drowned  _ in front of me.”

“I’m okay, Makoto. I’m fine, and you’re fine,” Haru soothed. “It’s not real, and I’m alive. Everything is okay.” He paused. “I wish you could get a break from these dreams,” he confessed. “I wish you could get good sleep.”

“I do too,” Makoto whispered.

There was a long pause before Haru spoke again. “I wish I could be there for you.”

“You’re at the Olympics. You’re forgiven,” Makoto mumbled sleepily, though he wished Haru was there too. He wanted and maybe even  _ needed  _ Haru’s hand on his back rubbing circles, and his  body in his arms, just to be confident he was there.

Haru’s heart fluttered at the sound of Makoto’s sleepy voice. “I still wish I could be there.”

“Tell me about your day so far.”

Haru hummed as he thought. “I slept in late today, and when I showed up to practice, my coaches were angry because he thought I was up to no good, but I was just tired,” Haru said. 

“I practiced until a few minutes ago because I showed up late, and they just gave me a break for lunch. I have the rest of the day off, but I don’t know what I’m going to do. Maybe I’ll go watch an event with my roommate,” he rambled, knowing Makoto needed an earful of his voice to soothe him back to sleep. 

“Did I tell you I got stuck with Shibasaki? He’s that idiot who kept trying to make me go out with the team after practice. Why would I want to be with them after practice?” Haru huffed.

He babbled about his day for a few more minutes before stopping to decide if Makoto was asleep. His breathing was shallow, so Haru assumed he was.

“I love you, Makoto. Please sleep well,” Haru said quietly before he hung up.

**. . .**

Makoto had to stay up late to watch Haru in his heat. It was fine, though. He had a huge exam to study for anyway. He crammed for the test until the freestyle heats started. He watched every heat leading up to Haru’s carefully and payed close attention to each swimmer’s time. The first few heats had times nowhere near comparable to Haru’s best. Heats four and five were faster swimmers, but still most weren’t at par with Haru’s best times. 

Haru swam in the sixth heat, Makoto screaming his support an ocean away. When times were announced and Haru placed first in his heat, Makoto started crying. He texted Haru somewhere near a thousand celebratory emojis, along with a text that read, “I’m so so so so so so proud of you Haru-chan!!!” 

Haru ended up placing fifth overall, which was enough to send him to semifinals. 

**. . .**

The next morning, Makoto woke up to congratulatory texts from Nagisa and Rei, both his and Haru’s parents for Haru, and even Rin. Everyone had adjusted to Haru’s habit of never carrying his phone and decided the best course of action was to contact him through Makoto a long time ago. Makoto texted everyone back that Haru had taken his own phone to Rio and could be reached that way. 

Not long after his text had been sent, Nagisa called. Makoto was confused, but answered anyway.

“Haru-chan remembered to take his phone somewhere?” Nagisa asked in surprise. “But he never uses it!”

Makoto laughed. Nagisa was right. Haru didn’t use his phone all throughout high school, and he’s no different as a graduate. “I know, I was surprised too,” Makoto admitted. “He must have decided to take it with him because he’s so far away from home.”

“Can I have Haru-chan’s phone number so I can congratulate him?” Nagisa asked sheepishly. “I deleted it when I realized he never used it…”

Makoto rambled off the number for Haru’s phone and Nagisa ended the call shortly after so he could congratulate Haru, which Makoto was grateful for because semifinals were at nine, but Makoto had a math class at seven thirty to get to before he could even think about watching Haru. He would have plenty of time to get to his class and back, but he was skipping his chemistry class so he could make it home in time. Chemistry was a thousand times less important than Haru’s race. 

He came home from his math class in time to see Haru, but he was exhausted mentally. He struggled in Professor Adachi’s class, and she wasn’t much help when he stayed behind to ask questions. He’d be done with her class soon, and he was thankful for that. As was Haru, because he had to listen to Makoto complain about her. He was thankful he hadn’t signed up for double math classes like he had planned. 

He was also thankful he’d made it back with enough time to text Haru good luck before his race. As soon as he put his bag down by the door he texted Haru. He wished he could have skipped his math class as well so he could have Skyped Haru before his event, but he was struggling too much to miss a class.

Makoto didn’t get a reply from Haru immediately, but he had expected that. Haru was probably warming up and didn’t have a moment to even think about checking his messages. Right before his event was scheduled to begin and the first swimmers were coming out however, Makoto received a single heart emoji in response. 

Haru swam in the second semifinal, which Makoto was grateful of. He would know quickly whether he was moving on to finals or not. It was highly possible he would, though. Most of the times were below what Haru had done during the heats, and Makoto knew from experience that Haru would push himself harder for semifinals. 

And he did. Haru placed second overall in the semifinals. He was moving to finals. Makoto cried again. After he finished crying, he booked a plane ticket and a hotel room in Rio. He was going to see Haru swim in the finals. 

**. . .**

Planning for a spur of the moment trip to Brazil had been hell. He had to reschedule classes for his year ones and twos, and he would have to miss a class for year three, but it was worth it when he got to Rio de Janeiro and saw what Haru had told him about. Rio really was gorgeous. There was no denying it. Haru was right. He did love it.

Haru didn’t know Makoto was in Rio, of course. He didn’t even know Makoto had booked a flight. He thought Makoto was busy with work and had a test to study for. 

Makoto debated not telling Haru he had flown in just so he wouldn’t ruin his streak, but he knew Haru had a habit of pushing himself even harder when he knew Makoto was watching. He wanted to keep making Makoto proud. So, he went out onto his balcony and took a selfie with the dog filter and the beach behind him, and sent it to Haru. 

Within ten minutes Haru called him about it.

“Where are you at that there’s a beach?” Haru demanded. He didn’t want to get his hopes up and needed information as soon as possible. 

“Where are  _ you  _ at that there’s a beach?” Makoto shot back. 

“Makoto, are you in Rio or aren’t you?” 

Makoto smiled so wide he felt like his face was going to burst open. “I am,” he confessed. “I had to see you swim the finals, Haru!”

“Idiot,” he said breathlessly. Haru paused. “Can you meet me somewhere for lunch?” 

“Okay,” he agreed. “Are you sure you’re allowed to leave the village?” 

“If people are allowed to have sex all over the place, I think I’m allowed to meet my  _ kareshi  _ for lunch.”

**. . .**

Makoto had a horrible time finding somewhere Haru could eat mackerel, but he eventually did after he searched online for a little while. He showed up later than Haru to the restaurant because he’d gotten confused with the directions, but he forgot to feel bad when he saw Haru sitting at a table with his Iwatobi swim jacket on. He knew he’d kept it after they graduated and continued wearing it well into his swimming career, but it was surreal to be at the Olympics cheering him on while he was wearing his Iwatobi jacket around.

“ _ Baka!  _ Why did you tell me you weren’t going to come?” Haru asked when Makoto got close enough.

Makoto shook his head violently as he sat down. “That’s not what happened, Haru-chan. I decided after you qualified for finals,” he explained. 

“Why didn’t you tell me after you decided?” Haru asked, ignoring Makoto’s use of his name.

“Well… I wanted to surprise you!” Makoto announced.

“It worked.”

“How has training been now that you’re actually here?” Makoto asked worriedly. He knew how Haru’s coaches could be. He knew how even the children’s coaches got around competitions. Suddenly everything gets kicked into gear and no one understands what’s happening.

“Hell. They’re trying to tell me to rest all the time,” he said. “‘Haruka, you need to get plenty of sleep tonight! You might even want to take a nap in the afternoons to refuel!’” he imitated. “But, while they’re saying that, they’re making me do laps across the pool as fast as I can until my times start dragging. It’s hell.”

Makoto frowned sympathetically. “Oh, I’m sorry Haru-chan!” 

“Would you stop it with the -chan already?”

“Sorry,” Makoto said, not really sounding too apologetic. “You were right, you know. About how gorgeous it is here. The ocean is absolutely beautiful. Have you swam in it yet?”

“Too busy,” Haru complained. “I’ll swim when my event is finally over.” He paused. “I’m glad you made it, Makoto.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

**. . .**

The finals were that night. Makoto sent Haru off to training with a hug and a kiss on the forehead for good luck and while Haru was busy training, Makoto went off and sightsaw. 

He visited the beach and burned his shoulders because he stayed out too long, and even took a picture with the giant statue near the stadium before he headed to the aquatics stadium to get a good seat. 

It turned out going two hours early wasn’t good enough to get decent seats. The aquatics stadium was a popular place to be, but Makoto ended up getting good enough seats to see the entire pool. He watched the women’s breaststroke finals and the men’s 200m backstroke semifinals made him wish for another universe where he had decided to follow swimming as a career. He knew teaching was better for him in the long run deep down, but watching made him miss it.

Haru’s event came up after the men’s butterfly semifinals, which Makoto hadn’t honestly been watching. He was too focused on how Haru was probably feeling and how he would perform. He cheered along with everyone else as Haru came out in his warm-up, an earbud in each ear. He looked as unenthused as usual, but Makoto knew that he was out of his mind excited to swim in finals. Makoto was so proud of him.

The minutes it took for the swimmers to prepare felt like hours. They dragged along as slow as possible, and Makoto took it as an advantage to take picture of Haru down by the starting block. He tucked his phone back into his pocket when he noticed everyone preparing, and got ready to cheer for his best friend. 

Then suddenly, bang, and all of the swimmers were in the water. Haru had an amazing start, but he was starting to fall behind. When he hit the wall he sped up, though. He passed the American swimmer with ease, and then the Canadian and then he was finishing the race. Third place. Haru had  _ placed  _ in the  _ Olympic  _ finals! And, Makoto couldn’t help it; he was sobbing. Everyone around him probably thought he was completely bonkers, but he wasn’t. He was so  _ proud  _ of Haru.

Makoto had watched Haru come from not wanting to be in the swim club when they were children to starting the Iwatobi swim club to now, winning bronze for Japan in the  _ Olympics _ , of all places. It all felt surreal.

**. . .**

Makoto spent the whole walk back to his hotel talking to his  _ okaasan _ about how well Haru had done and how they’d both cried when it was announced that he had placed third. The whole Tachibana family had apparently cheered for him at home, which hadn’t been hard to believe. His family had basically adopted Haru from the moment his parents moved out. He said goodbye to his mother when he reached his hotel.

When he made it to his hotel room at ten, he turned on the TV to see what everyone was saying about the 100m freestyle. They seemed to be hooked on Haru. They were so impressed that he had won bronze. None of them had suspected he’d had even a chance to win, but here he was hours away from getting his bronze medal awarded to him. 

The hosts kept talking about how they should have seen him winning. How he had won first at the Japan Open, and then was first in Japan. They even mentioned his various sponsorship deals and the handful of modeling jobs he’s had for swim magazines, which Makoto knew Haru hated to do. 

They seemed especially intrigued by the interview Haru had given when he emerged from the locker room when they introduced it. They disappeared from the screen and were replaced with dripping wet Haru in his team Japan shirt, along with a reporter Makoto was familiar with from Haru’s previous events. He thought he might have even seen her at Japan Open, along with the World Championship.

“So, Nanase! You’ve won bronze for Japan in the 100m freestyle for your Olympic debut! You must be ecstatic!” the reporter said, shoving her microphone in Haru’s face.

Haru forced his best believable smile. “I’m very lucky,” he told the reporter.

“That you are!” she said, smiling wide. Makoto couldn’t help but feel jealous of her in that moment. He wished he could have been outside of Haru’s locker room to congratulate him. He wished he could have talked to him after his event period. Rules were strict at the Olympics, though. He doubted even Haru would have been able to pull enough strings to get him there. “You won second overall in your semifinal, though. You must be disappointed you didn’t perform better,” she noted.

Makoto frowned at her comment, but Haru merely shrugged. “It was only a little bit disappointing,” he admitted. And there it was, the confirmation Makoto had been waiting for. Haru had never let on that he was even remotely happy to be swimming in the Olympics, but that was enough to let Makoto into his thoughts. He  _ was  _ pleased to be there. “I’m glad I placed.”

“As you should be,” she replied, showing off bright white teeth. “You must be excited to have your event done and other with. What are you going to do now that it’s over?”

“I want to swim in the ocean,” Haru told her.

“You still want to swim? But your event is over!” 

“It will be nice to swim free,” he replied shortly, pulling at the sleeves of his Iwatobi jacket, which for the record did look similar to the Japan jacket he was  _ supposed  _ to be wearing. 

The woman must have already tried to ask what Haru meant when he said free at a separate event, because she didn’t even bother trying to ask him about what he was talking about, even though she probably didn’t understand. Makoto wasn’t sure even he knew what Haru meant by it either, even after all these years. “I heard you swam with your teammate, Matsuoka, when you were younger. Is that true?”

Haru nodded. “He and I were in the same swimming team when we were in elementary school,” he informed her. 

Makoto took a moment to think. He couldn't remember how Rin had done, because he was so focused on Haru. Rin's face came up on the side of the screen, and the words “second overall, 100m butterfly” were beneath him. He wondered for a moment if Rin was happy with second. Probably not, but Makoto could be happy enough for the both of them.

She looked very pleased to be the one to clear the newest rumor, but she was quick to get back into the interview. “How do you think your family is reacting at home over your win?” she asked, directing her microphone back at Haru.

“Well, I don’t know about my family, but Makoto said he was proud of me for qualifying, but I know he will be pleased that I won,” Haru said.

Makoto’s face felt warm listening to Haru talk about him on television. He shifted uncomfortably from his seat on the end of his hotel bed. 

“Who is Makoto?” the reporter asked, tucking her black hair behind her left ear.

Haru looked at her with the most unimpressed expression Makoto had ever seen. He was looking at her as if she should know-- as if it were obvious. “My boyfriend,” he said.

The reporter was silent, and obviously shocked. Makoto’s reaction was almost identical to hers. He felt like he was blushing from head to toe. He couldn’t believe Haru had announced their relationship at the Olympics. He wasn’t mad, though. The two of them weren’t very secretive about their relationship, but Haru never talked about his personal life in his interviews as a rule, so he’d never officially announced it.

Knowing that he had finally said something was relieving, but terrifying at the same time. His feelings about the whole situation were mixed, and it was impossible to make sense of it all. All he knew was that he wasn’t mad. 

Makoto watched as the still visibly surprised reporter congratulated Haru and then it was back to the reporters in the studio. They didn’t have much to say about the whole thing, but one of them did turn to the other and announce that they were surprised Haru was gay, even though he had never even told them that he was. They were too quick to guess. The other wanted to know what Makoto looked like, and Makoto wasn’t sure how he felt about all of it, so he turned the TV off and went about getting ready for bed.

Haru called at eleven, and Makoto dove for his phone when it rang.

“Haru! You won!”

Haru laughed slightly. He was probably relieved Makoto didn’t sound angry. Or maybe he was nervous of his reaction. “Well, I didn’t  _ win. _ ”

“I know,” Makoto told him. “Bronze is still winning when you’re at the Olympics, though.”

“So, you watched me, then?”

“Of course I did! I even watched your interview afterwards. You did a very good job acting comfortable with a microphone in your face,” Makoto assured him.

“You saw the interview? What did you think?”

Makoto shrugged as he wedged his phone between his ear and shoulder. “I told you a long time ago that I didn't care what you told the media about us. I still don't care. It was nice to hear you say it, though,” he said, pulling back the blankets on his bed. 

“Oh,” Haru murmured. He hummed, and Makoto could hear his blankets moving around. There was a long pause before he spoke again. “You know… This… this is my dream,” he whispered. “This is what I was meant to do. This is what I love.”

Makoto smiled, and tucked his hand behind his head. He loved listening to Haru get deep about life.

“I love you. You know that, right? I know I don't say it very often, but I really do, Makoto.”

Makoto turned on his side to turn off his light. “I know, Haru,” he promised, grinning. Haru never said it often, but he said it with his actions all of the time. He payed attention when Makoto talked about his students, and even gave him advice. He helped Makoto with his homework when he could and always hurried home after practice so he could have dinner waiting for him, and Makoto knew he tried hard to make things he liked, even if it meant skipping mackerel for the night. 

“And I love you,” Makoto said after a beat.

“Goodnight, Makoto.”

“Sleep well, Haru. I'm so proud of you.”

**. . .**

Makoto stayed long enough in Rio to see Haru’s medal ceremony, which he cried a lot during, and then he was on a flight home. The horrible two day round trip was worth it to see Haru win his first Olympic medal was worth it though. He'd do it again in a heartbeat.

When he returned home, he fell into a cycle of swim classes and school, along with sporadic calls from Haru. He never did seem to adjust to Makoto being twelve hours behind him. Makoto learned instead to turn off his phone when he slept.

Makoto missed the closing ceremony for a swim lesson with his third years, but it wasn't like he missed much because Haru sent him something like one hundred Snapchats. 

He was excited when it was finally over, though. It meant Haru would be back home to him and everything would be normal again. Or, as normal as it could get. Haru would be an Olympic bronze medalist now.

He hated not having constant contact with Haru because of his excruciating day long flight back to Japan, but Haru usually tried to call when he landed for layovers. Makoto was in class or teaching a class most times he landed, and when he tried to call back Haru was back in the air. 

By the time Haru’s last flight was in the air, Makoto was exhausted with trying to match his flight schedule with his classes. He was glad he was almost home. He couldn't wait for him to be home and sleeping in their bed again. He was excited to have him back for dinner. He was mostly glad to congratulate him in person, though. Phone calls and Snapchats can get the point across, but they don’t feel as genuine.

That's how Makoto hatched the plan to wait up for him to come home. He would wait for him in the hallway and surprise him when he opened the door. When it came close to time for Haru to land, Makoto made himself coffee and brought it to the entryway of their apartment. He was exhausted, but he had to stay up for Haru, which was why coffee was involved, even though he hated it.

When Haru opened the door to the apartment he wasn't greeted with a hug as planned, instead with a sleeping Makoto on the floor, his back against the wall and his legs slightly bent because they didn't fit in the small hallway. Haru smiled anyway. Makoto had gone to the effort of trying to stay awake to greet him, even though it was the very early morning and he probably had something to do in a handful of hours. He was the sweetest person Haru knew and it was nice to come back to that, even if it hadn't gone like it had been planned. 

In a way though, it was fitting. He left Japan to a sleeping Makoto, and came back to a sleeping Makoto. And both would be angry when they woke up, just for different reasons. 

“What an idiot,” he breathed.

Haru sat his bag down by the door and slipped his shoes off. He put his shoes on the rack along with Makoto’s, then walked over to his big sleepy boyfriend. He kissed his hair because he was too cute to not, then shook him gently by the shoulder. “Makoto… Makoto, wake up. You need to go to bed,” he said quietly. 

Makoto woke up with a sleepy groan in complaint, but his eyes shot open when he noticed it was Haru. “Haru!” he exclaimed. “Oh, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

Haru pulled Makoto to his feet. “I had a feeling,” he joked.

“How was your flight?” Makoto asked as he rubbed his eyes. 

“It was fine. We can talk about it more in the morning. You need to go to bed,” Haru insisted. “Come on.” He took Makoto’s hand and walked with him to their bedroom, and on the way he glanced to the corner that held Makoto’s countdown. The number was well into the thousands. He felt warm as he pulled Makoto into their bedroom, where they both changed before slipping into bed. Haru curled into Makoto as if they hadn't been apart for weeks, and it made Makoto smile.

“I’m so proud of you,” Makoto murmured as he took Haru’s hand.

“I know, Makoto,” Haru said into his chest. “I know.”

**Author's Note:**

> if you have any questions about the fic, feel free to message me on my tumblr! (formakoto)
> 
> also, if you'd be intrested in reading more of this AU let me know.  
> thanks for reading! xx
> 
> edit: holy shit i wrote this over a week while watching the freestyle races over and over to make sure i got every last fact right and i'm just so goddamn happy people are enjoying it and reading it thank you so so much


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